under another sun

Lorraine off to rhyme time. After some writing, I went into Brighton and saw Jewel for a massage at Sundial. I'd not seen Jewel for a few years. Lovely freewheeling chat with her while she sorted out areas of evil in my back. Much of it about babies at the moment.  Home, and feeling pleasantly roughed up, and strangely sleepy. Had a bit of a quiet afternoon and feel deeply asleep for ten minutes, and then felt strangely emotional. This always seems to happen to me after a massage.   A general feeling of unreality at the moment. Waiting for the big event ...  Often thinking about Beth and James. Lorraine went to be with Beth in hospital. Beth experienced cramping today but the baby's not ready for its curtain call quite yet. Beth still in good spirits however. 

Another day without a cloud in the sky. Recording with Robin this morning, and then doing my writing, and also thinking about revamping my other site and it is tired and not simple enough.  Lorraine drove off to the gym, but events conspired against her, and she got stuck in assorted traffic jams and had to call it off, and returned back via the garden centre.  In the afternoon, I went to Newhaven by train to a place called Bodyhaven, where Lorraine had made an appointment for me to have a massage. The charming owner of the business, Chi, saw a spider on the floor, and pointed to it in horror. Spider, she said handing me a glass and a piece of card. I wrangled it, put it  outside, but it was a bit of an icebreaker. Excellent massage, even though my back was rigid to begin with.  Lorraine met me outside Newhaven station, and we walked home through the remains of Tide Mills and along the seafront, pausing in the heat to eat ice cream and a lemonade in the sailing club....

A day of calm, no beers and no curries. Doing laundry and business admin bits this morning. A text from Mark with a photo of the poem I had written for his wedding in 1989. Working on poems this morning, and sent some of the newer ones to Robin and Sarah. Robin liked them, which was reassuring. Emailing the agency in Paddington about payment. The boards at the bottom of the Kenny coffers are bleakly visible, as the wheelbarrows of Paddington doubloons have yet to be tipped in. The prospect of a cashless Christmas is slightly worrying. To sundial where Jewel gave me a massage at midday, which made me feel pleasantly boneless and sleepy this afternoon, ironing out all the back evils that accumulated from commuting and sitting at a desk on a broken chair for weeks on end. Went to the post office on the way home in a curiously mellow way. Then home, where I had a deep post massage doze for 40 minutes. Then coffee, and popped outside in the pouring rain. Then cooked and when a frazzled ...

Lorraine off to school early, I spent much of the day thinking and making airy mind maps, taking a strategic view of my activities. Plunging in without much forethought which tends to be my modus operandi . I seem to have my fingers in lots of pies. Other than itemising what I had to do, when I felt in the mood. A weakness I have is that I'm not much of a joiner-in-er, which means that I simply get things done (a positive) but the negative is that I usually operate as an outlier. I would like to be more connected. I was able to make an appointment to see Jewel for a deep tissue massage at Sundial. I always feel so much better afterwards, though the prodding of lots of tender knots in your back can be quite painful. The last part of the massage is when Jewel asks you to flip over onto your back and she holds your head and rolls it about and stretches your neck. I find this incredibly relaxing. Felt a bit tender afterwards, but walked home through Preston Park and then got on wit...

Reading Lorraine bits of W.B. Yeats in bed this morning, lucky girl. Then L off to spend some time with Dawn and I sloped into town to receive a much needed massage from Jewel, who has massaged me off and on for a few years now. Always surprised by how a deep tissue massage releases strange knots of emotion and anxiety. It triggered fleeting edgy, panicked moments despite the sedative sounds and aromas in her room. As well as loose limbed and beaten up, the experience usually leaves me feeling weirdly vulnerable as if I am crab that's shed its shell. I flitted home sideways and found myself in need of sleep for half an hour or more. Got caught up in watching Rugby on TV with a hugely entertaining Le Crunch game against France which was exciting.  A cheery evening at home with Beth and Laura, who watched L and I drink a couple of glasses of wine, and provided us with endless entertainment playing with hair extensions and larking about in general.

Writing a storm of poetry this morning. The mad surge of poetry rarely comes across me, but when it does you have to go with it. So I parked my accounts, and did poems instead. Much more fun. Off at lunchtime to see Jewel, who is does massages, and is fantastic at it. Had a full hour of deep tissue work. Usually there are times when she does this that I experience some strong emotion, and this time an area of my back made me feel as if she had pressed an anxiety button. Once this was unknotted, however, all was well. Although there was almost no part of my body that didn't feel tender when she massaged it. Weirdly blissful feeling when she cupped the back of my head and rolled my head around. Afterwards I felt like I'd been in a fight, but in a very good way, and had a spine like a young grass snake. As usual, however, felt peculiar afterwards, a catharsis of emotions. I drank lots of water, and kept a blameless profile tonight, staying happily at home with Lorraine and cook...

Unknotting A relaxed monday. Spent time sending designing posters and flyers, and sending images and copy off to The Marlborough Theatre for our Pack of 3 show at the end of August. Mercifully the computer is working well, though I still don't trust it. Also bumped into David Sheppeard from the theatre as I came out of the gym. A long gym session. Am working harder than ever there now as I have got very fat again. I get fat when I'm stressed, so whenever there is a big project going on where I am likely to be photographed, this will always coincide with chubbiness. It's sod's law. I had cunningly scheduled a massage today, a whole hour from three. Floated out from it dreamily, today's one not having been too agonising, though there are a few places she kuckles that make you want to yelp. Came back and sat before my computer for a while but my brain was mush. Spent the evening toying inconclusively with ideas for the CD booklet.

Tense buns Out this morning to do a spot of shopping and the weather felt positively autumnal. Noted balefully that the price of prawns, which Calliope eats for breakfast, now rising. Food is becoming more expensive by the month. Fragmentary work for much of the day, although I took a briefing from Karam on the newsletter I am going to write about haemophilia, a welcome spot of work over the next few days. Enjoyed talking to Karam who had been to Japan recently, and was raving about it. He liked, among all the fascinating things how drivers on the buses the driver said goodbye to each person as they left. After this off to get a massage. Tension in my shoulders had been giving me a backache. Apparently I had tense buns too. Felt the traditional runover feeling afterwards, but it is definitely a healing thing, and wasn't as painful as it had been, and I didn't feel like sobbing this time either which was an improvement. Gloomy and bored tonight. I am so rarely feel bored that it...

Something unexplained Massages have a strange effect on me, especially if I have not had one for a long time. I read a study given to me by a masseur about muscle memory; and how the body locks up feelings, and when the muscles are relaxed the feelings emerge. This time the feelings I have locked up seem to revolve around apathy, if my lack of get up and go is anything to go by. Lorraine with a sore throat and tired too, so our weekend was less than dynamic. There is one area on the left side of my back under the shoulder blade, that when given a good thumbing and unlocked, releases a sudden flood of anxiety and sadness. In fact on one occasion it has made me start to cry. It feeling only lasts a few seconds, but the emotion is profound. Even yesterday I felt a panicky surge when she released it. We did go to see a colleague of Lorraine's called Nora Young, who was having an art show in one of Worthing's Open Houses. I could tell at once that Nora is a really interesting and ...

Tender buns Off for an early whole body massage today by the lovely Jewel. After an hour of somewhat painful but hugely beneficial stuff I found it took me almost half a minute to get up from her couch. She had spent some time working on my buns too, which were surprisingly tense. Never occurred to me that you can carry tension in the buns, but surely they are better clenched up than hanging behind you like curtains. Home, feeling beaten up, and went straight to the sofa where I spent the rest of the day, with Lorraine and Calliope watching random TV about Auschwitz, WW2 bombers, Arvo Part, The Incredibles, etc. etc. In the evening off to the Red Snapper as it was Cath's birthday, and we had some pleasant Thai food, with nice folks. I managed to inhale a chili in my hot and sour soup so had to barge outside choking, which was rather dramatic ( I was sat by the open door). The waiter brought me out a glass of water, which was nice of him. Then got talking to Cath's frien...

A little Twister Up before seven, and straight to work. Busy ticking things off my mindmaps, which are now blu tacked to the wall by my desk. Completed my article, did some billing, caught up with some correspondence, finalised my poetry manuscript, submitted some work for the little Guernsey magazine Written... All before 12 noon. The poetry manuscript is absolutely bloody finally finished, and it is called Twister and is a mere 21 poems long. But every one a winner. Bob called and he is worried about his daughter who has started school and some of the other little girls are being horrid to her. In the afternoon off to have a 45 minute deep tissue massage. Fantastic. I am a complete convert, despite it being a little painful at times. It does tend to make me sleepy though. And after lurching home, I slept heavily for an hour. In the evening walked across town to Simon's house, where we had a nice supper with his nice wife Carol and then talked business for a couple of hours. A fa...

Unknotting again Up at seven and made coffee and got straight down to work on my Skelton Yawngrave story. However, gallingly, the muse had checked out for the morning, so after gnashing my teeth, I contented myself with editing existing material for a couple of hours, as this seems to come from a different part of the brain. Opted for an early swim, feeling a bit sluggish going up and down, and quite pleased when half an hour was over. This followed by admin stuff, such as paying a fat fee to my glamorous accountant, and shopping for office paper. A couple of hours later I went for another wonderful massage. Painful at times, but in a good way. There is one point, low down, between my shoulders, that makes me flinch like a whipped cur when she touches it. I asked her to have at it anyway. After an hour of this, I felt drugged and woozy. Dozed for an hour before setting off for London, penning the start of a poem on the train, which was sparked off by the massage. Up through London to ...

The back abates For the first day in ages, a cracking day on my skeleton story. Also a few tweaks to The Moth Display, which is in the final flap. Then a swim. Feeling better than I have done for a while thanks to my recent massage. My back is not hurting all the time, which means I can sleep too. Yippee. Deep tissue massage rocks. Up to London in the evening. Spoke to Mum on the train. She had just returned home after starting her chemotherapy. She was feeling a little sleepy when I spoke to her, but she said that the nursing staff couldn't have been better, and it wasn't too bad so far. Also re-reading an old anthology called New Blood on the train. Rather than dipping into magazines, I'm forcing myself to be more methodical about catching up with anyone who is anyone in the last ten years in poetry. As I did so, an inky stain on my damp manbag printed itself neatly onto my brand new trousers. Pouring steadily in London, as befits a British June. I set off to Goodge Stee...

Unknotting Up with the sparrows this morning, and finally was able to get on with writing about skeletons again, which was fantastic. Also worked on my Moth Display poem and made real progress. At 1.30 I went for a deep tissue massage of my, back, neck and shoulders for a whole hour. It was absolutely wonderful, and also quite painful as I have stored a world of evil up in there. I also experienced a passing surge of weird panic when Jule worked on the left side of my back. I firmly believe in this idea of tissue memory: that when you release the knots of tension you actually re-experience the emotions that caused the knots in the first place. The first time I had a deep tissue massage was a few years ago, and it was not only agonising, but I felt terribly depressed for a few days after. But soon after, I felt better than I had felt for ages. And the next time I went for one, the experience was almost painless. It think massage precipitates some kind of a healing crisis. Today thankful...